Subject 78926
by Ixorie
Summary: *Edited and Reposted!* I was subject 78926 in Azkaban prison. I am now Nile White, healer at St. Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Throughout the 2 months, I have helped 16 war veterans overcome their nightmares. Now, I face my toughest patient yet. Patient number 17, also known as former Gryffindor princess Hermione Granger.
**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.**

 _Draco Malfoy_

My name is Nile White. I used to be Draco Malfoy, pureblood stuck-up and bully to one Hermione Granger. I am different now. My parents are different too. They spend every waking moment together, cuddling, just doting on each other. I know they are making up for all the time that they have lost. We are a family, and like every other muggle family, we spend our weekends together, laughing and drinking tea. We have gone through so much together - the war, our admittance and departure from Azkaban prison. It's time we stopped hating and started seeing the truth, that Muggleborns were as deserving of magic as we were.

In a way, my mother saved us all. She saved Potter's life, and for that we were slightly pardoned. We spent two months in Azkaban in adjoining cells, and during our term, we were most obedient and docile. Our term was supposed to last for 5 months, but two months in we were let out early for good behaviour. My parents and I spent the remaining 3 months under Ministry supervision. We were not allowed out of our house, so we spent the rest of our time redecorating our home. We've repainted everything and thrown away anything that might contain even a trace of bad memories. We've replaced furniture and even planted flowers and started our little garden. My mother has worked so hard on it now that there are bees and hummingbirds visiting everyday, collecting nectar and helping to fertilize the plants. They work hard, and so do I.

I straighten my robes and replace the piece of hair that has fallen out of place. I look at the ornate mirror in front of me and tell myself, "I am Nile White, healer at St. Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am Nile White, and I am a good person."

This was what the psychiatrist had told me to tell myself every morning, and I say it even now, 3 months after my last visit there. It helps me forget about all my sins, and I am able to go to work and help people, without feeling guilty that I have caused them pain in the past. I love my job. I love the feeling to be able to help get someone out of their shell, to help them move forward. I may be a healer, helping fellow witches and wizards get over their nightmares, but I still have them. Granted, many of them have gone away, but I am haunted by the repetitive dream of Hermione Granger getting tortured in front of my eyes and me not being able to help her.

I kiss my parents goodbye, and apparate out of the mansion. It never occurred to me that the subject of my nightmare would become one of my patients.

 _Hermione Granger_

My name is Hermione Granger, and I have issues. I enjoy a simple life, living in a little house on the outskirts of London. I live alone with my cat and I spend my days cuddled in front of the fireplace with a good book. I, Hermione Granger, at the age of 19, am jobless. I've received letters from the Ministry, and from just about every single wizarding company out there, offering me a job at their firm. I have turned down every single one.

I am afraid to go to sleep at night now, and my pallor is pale. I do not want to experience the recurring nightmares every time I shut my eyes, all the terror and pain in those dreams. I try to stay awake for as long as I can, but eventually I still get swept away into blood, pain, and fear. Harry and Ron come to visit me often, and occasionally they bring with them a vial of Dreamless Sleep Draught, something that I desperately need. I used it regularly at first, the first 2 months after the war, but now the effect seemed to have been dampened whenever I use it. Harry and Ron don't bring it to me often, because they are afraid I might become addicted. I don't understand why I am the one plagued by the most nightmares, and none of the therapists that I have been to have been able to chase away my recurring nightmares. My best friends keep trying to set me up with a new healer, or push me into a job, but both have never lasted over a week.

I have nightmares every night, and almost every one is more gruesome than the last. I dream about gargoyles coming to life and biting off chunks of my leg, dragging me down the halls of Hogwarts. I dream of my friends dying and me being unable to do anything. I dream of Voldemort staring at me with his beady eyes and cackling menacingly. I am unable to do anything to stop these dreams. Just last night, I had the worst dream yet.

I was running along the corridors, casting furious jinxes and hexes behind her without looking. Something was getting closer, its footsteps spurring me to move my legs faster. I could hear its pants, and it's shadow loomed in front of me. The shadow was getting bigger as I turned around the corner. Something dropped in front of the corner and I screamed. I stopped short and stared in front of me. Ron Weasley's dead body stared back at me. I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks. I hardly felt it as the monster finally reached me and ripped me limb to limb, the blood splattering on the floor and onto Ron's pale body.

I awake with a start and immediately run to the toilet to empty the contents of my stomach. The fact that Ron and I had broken up just a month ago did not help my nausea. I take a deep breath as I sip my hot cocoa slowly. Crookshanks purrs from beside me and I pat her. She croons and curls up next to me with a contented sigh, drifting off into a cat nap. I am jealous of her ability to sleep without disturbance. I miss being able to do that. I stare at the clock hanging above my mantel. Four minutes…three…two…one…ding dong. Right on time.

I get up and walk over to the door, peeking through the peephole before opening the door to my best friends. They each give me a hug and kiss me on the cheek. Harry holds a vial of the draught that I crave, and I become suspicious. He usually doesn't bring one for me until 2 weeks has past since the last one, but he had just given me one a week ago. I may be suffering from a kind of post-traumatic stress disorder, but I am proud to say that I am still relatively clear-headed.

"Alright Harry, what do you want?"

"Harry looks at me and has the decency to look sheepish.

"Guess I can never outwit you huh, 'Mione?"

"No, you can't," I admit, smiling slightly.

Harry and Ron lead me over to my couch, and I sink into it, letting my sore back muscles rest against the comfortable fabric. Ron leaves and I can hear him bustling about the kitchen. A rich aroma of coffee fills the room a while later, and I know this will not be good. Ron never fixed me anything unless he wanted to ask something of me. He comes back a while later and hands the cup to me. I nod thankfully at him and sip at the hot coffee.

"Alright, out with it you two," I say.

Harry clears his throat.

"Well, 'Mione, you see, Ron and I were…uh…sort of thinking that you should go see a healer."

I roll my eyes.

"Not again, Harry. We have gone over this about 16 times. I will not go see another healer who will sap up my money and leave me feeling no better than I did before I went to see him or her."

Harry shakes his head vehemently.

"I think you're mistaken Hermione. This one is different. His name is Nile White, and he's one of the top healers in St. Mungo's. He helped Angelina, Dean, Percy and even Ginny get over their nightmares. He's special."

My ears perk up.

"Ginny? He managed to help Ginny?"

I knew Ginny was a bad case. Her nightmares might not be as bad as mine, but she was also suffering like me, and to be able to cure her was a pretty great feat in itself.

"Yes he did," Ron speaks.

Harry turns his pleading eyes onto me.

"Please 'Mione, please give it a try. Please try for Ron and I."

I contemplate it in my head. I could either turn down their offer and go back to screaming my head off every night, or I could give it a try and maybe have my life altered. I chose the latter.

"Alright, but only because he could help Ginny and I am tired of you boys bugging me all the time. Now give it here," I say, reaching for the Dreamless Sleep Draught.

"Excellent. Your first appointment with Healer White is tomorrow on the 2nd floor of St. Mungo's at 11am sharp," he says, handing me a card.

I glare at Harry.

"You knew didn't you? You knew I wouldn't be able to resist your offer once you brought me the draught and said that Ginny recovered after going to this healer. You knew so you went ahead and made all the arrangements for me. For your information Mr Potter, I am not a child. I can do things on my own."

Harry blushes.

"I know 'Mione, but you're my best friend, and I really want to help you get better. You forgive me right?"

I nod and smile. How could I not forgive my best friend? After all, everything he's done has been for my own good.

"It's getting late. Ron and I should go. Have a good night Hermione."

I feel slightly sad that they have to leave, but I put on the best smile I have and kiss them on the cheek. With a smile and a pop, they both apparate away, and I am left alone again. I sit on the couch, looking over the business card that Harry had given me.

 _Maybe this healer won't be so bad after all._ He does have the muggle tendency to print out a business card, I think, chuckling to myself.

Still smiling slightly, I head to bed and place the card on my bedside table. A sleepy Crookshanks crawls in beside me and snuggles up to me underneath the blankets. I ruffle her fur for a moment before sliding into the duvet covers and uncorking the vial with a swift stroke and downing its contents. I had barely put the empty vial onto my bedside table before I fall asleep. For the first time in a week, I sleep soundly.


End file.
